The Deviants
by Chi Cheshire Neko
Summary: Mutant AU. Full summary inside. Deviants – a person or thing that differs noticeably from the accepted norm. A.k.a. mutants. Threat level: High. Dispatching: The Black Death. Mission: Kill them all, leave no survivors. Mission update: Nazi party in Germany with similar mission; taken over France proceeding to England Mission Status: Delayed, await further instructions.


**The Deviants**

**Deviant – **a person or thing that differs noticeably from the accepted norm. A.k.a. mutants.** Presence of such beings: **Affirmative.** Threat level: **High.** Recommended course of action: **Extermination...** Dispatching: **The Black Death**. Mission: **Kill them all, leave no survivors.**  
Mission update: **Nazi party in Germany with similar mission, have taken over France, proceeding to England  
**Mission status: **Delayed. Await further instructions…▌

Summary: Mutant AU.

France has fallen and been taken over by the Nazi's. However that's only the beginning. France was only one of those first in the line of fire in the eradication of the mutants. Mutants are human beings that have special and unique powers; the people who are mutants have taken to calling themselves deviants instead of mutants. A deviants power differs from each individual and they also vary in strength. The powers of a deviant are divided into physical, chemical, mystical and elemental.  
Because of these extraordinary feats deviants are able to perform, it didn't take long for unease to spread through the normal human population.  
And this is where the ball started rolling...  
The Nazi party believed that these so called deviants were abominations as well as any who try to help/hide them. In their quest to "purify" the world, hundreds of thousands of people were torn from their homes and dealt with accordingly at camp Auschwitz.

9 year old Francis Bonnefoy had planned to flee the country with his parents as soon as the Nazi's had started encroaching on their peaceful town. Only the Nazi's arrived earlier than planned. Soldiers stormed through the streets, guns were fired, explosives were thrown, tanks rumbled through the street while aircrafts flew above. The whole town was set ablaze. Francis was the only one who got away in time, and like the family had originally planned, he headed for England.

A/N: So hi people! I hope you will find this story interesting. In order to tie into another story I will be writing, the timeline for this will be shifted around and played with. I am saying this because I will be using events that have happened in history, an example would be genocides and major wars. The entire timeline of history is shifted down. Sorry for the confusion this may cause.

**Warnings: **None for this chapter, early warning of death, killing and topics pertaining/related to the Holocaust and the genocide of groups of people in upcoming chapters. If you are uncomfortable with these topics, DON'T READ.

_**Streets of London, England: Start of the 21**__**st**__** century**_

_** Start of World War II – The Fall of France**_

_**On the run, they're all dead. They killed them all. I got away; I was the only one that got away. – Francis Bonnefoy: Age 9**_

From under the safety of the shadows, a pair of clear blue eyes peered out from a dark rundown alley into the bustling streets of London. Out of habit, the owner of those eyes examined the streets warily before darting upwards to scan the skies. The memory of large aircrafts and soldiers storming the streets flashed through the boy's mind. Shaking the thought from his mind, he stared hungrily at the small shop across the street, it was a café. It had been a while since he last ate; the days since he had escaped his burning home had passed by in a blur. He gulped at the thought of fresh bread. His dainty hands tugged at the rags wrapped over his head; wrapped underneath were what once was silky blonde hair however now, dirt and grime caked the strands. He was safe here in London, he was sure of it, _they_ have not reached here yet.

After taking another look around, he stepped out of the shadows and made his way calmly over to the shop. Casually he brushed by a well off looking older woman that had just exited her car and quickly entwined his hand with hers.  
"You know me as Francis and you meet me here every day to get me food and water from that shop because you care about me like the son you always wanted," was whispered out quietly from the boy as he gripped her hand tighter.  
The woman stopped dead in her tracks as she looked down to stare at him in a daze; her eyes were glazed over in a milky white film. A few brief moments after she began blinking furiously, the film disappeared as recognition seemed to dawn her features.

"Ohh! Francis you poor dear I haven't seen you in so long! What is with those clothes? Never mind that, we can talk about it later. Let's first get you something to eat and then go back to my place for a change of clothes, okay?" The lady tugged on his hand as she guided him into the shop.

"Yes, madam, thank you so much," Francis replied with an innocent smile as he walked briskly next to her.

Unbeknowingly a pair of emerald green eyes tracked his movements as he walked into the shop.

* * *

0o0o0o||||||||||| Later on that day ||||||||||||||o0o0o0

The bathtub was made with a pristine silver, polished and shiny. It was something alike the one he used to have, in that large house with a person he had called mother and the other he had called father. The water was already prepared, rose petals and oils having been mixed in it. The water was hot enough for it to be steaming from the tub as he sank his body into the warm heavenly depths. He closed his eyes and sighed in bliss.

"Mister Francis I have your clothes here, could I come in?" The maid called from outside the bathroom door.

A yes was called out as Francis began scrubbing his body with a loofa, dirt and grime coming off in layers as he scrubbed his skin until it was near raw. He hadn't had a proper bath since he had left.

The maid hovered at the edge of the tub with a pot of water to wash his hair. With a quick lather and rinse, the dirty brown strands returned to their original golden hue. The previously rosy bath water was brown with dirt and soot. Francis let the maid rinse out his hair once more before deciding to climb out of the tub. He requested a full body rinse with another pot of rosé water before a towel was wrapped around him. (As soaking in your own filth was _totally _cleansing.)

The towel was large on him, being able to wrap around him fully so only his bony ankles and feet were showing. The maid towel dried his hair and fitted him into the clothes that the madam had brought for him. The clothes consisted of a with a white dress shirt with a high lacy collar with a sky blue vest and a pair of short sky blue trousers. Black ankle boots and white knee high socks also came with the outfit.

Francis stared at his reflection in the mirror, a slight clench of guilt in his gut. The madam had gone all out during what was deemed the second great world war, she really shouldn't have. He stared longer at his reflection; he didn't look like that lost and scared little boy he had seen in the broken shards of a shop window as he fled his home. Instead he saw a young beautiful noble boy with fair skin and hair, though slightly on the thinner side. He also knew that if the boy were to smile it would be beautiful, enrapturing the attention of all of those around him, no matter how fake that smile would be.

Francis drew a hand through his hair, it was still damp but his hand glided easily through the silken strands. A ribbon was in the pocket of the outer coat, it was a dark royal blue. Chuckling lightly he tucked the ribbon back into the pocket; there would be time to use it after his hair was dry and combed.

The maid stood behind him, from her expression in the mirror she looked confused and doubtful – not that Francis could blame her. Her mistress had brought home a tattered scrawny little boy and allowed him a bath and a room to sleep in with no rhyme or reason. It was only right of her to be confused.

"Hey miss, could you possibly help me tie this ribbon?" Francis stood still as a statue as he waited for the maid to do so. As the maid reached for the ribbon in his pocket, he swiftly grabbed her hand.

Before she had time to question his actions, he spoke, "Miss I know it's strange for your mistress to have taken interest in a boy like me however you don't feel the need to question your Mistress's choices."

The maid stared at him like she was in a trance, but unlike the madam, the maid seemed more… aware. Aware enough to be tilting her head and looking puzzled. Her eyes were more bright, not glazed over.

"...what?" She drawled out, her voice was slow and dazed.

Francis frowned; this was never a good sign. Using his other hand he took ahold of the maid's other hand and gripped it tight.

"You do not feel the need nor reason to question my presence or lineage or past. I am welcome here,"

A long moment passed, longer than what happened with the madam before she finally nodded. Her eyes blinked several times, the glassy look replaced by warmer one.

"Oh young master Francis, do you still want me to tie your ribbon?" she inquired with a fond smile.

"No thank you miss," Francis returned the gesture before crumpling into a heap immediately after. He felt drained; doing _that_ twice in the same day was exhausting. It wasn't long after did a shooting pain erupt inside of him - surging forth from within his head to crawl down his spine and through every bone inside of him.

"I need to go lie down," he quickly made his way to the bedroom. It was only a matter of time before the pain would start pounding through his body and wrack him with mind numbing pain. The maid jogged after him, worried. "I will most likely not be down for dinner so please excuse me," he said through gritted teeth.

She immediately halted her chase and stared as he stumbled away. He staggered through the door of his bedroom and slammed it shut. It took an enormous amount of effort to drag his body to the bed. He struggled out of his clothes and jumped in to bed in his undergarments. As soon as he hit the mattress he curled up into himself attempting to lessen the pain. He twitched as another spasm of pain tore through him. It wasn't the first time he experienced this kind of pain, it had been occurring ever since his "powers" appeared and probably wouldn't be the last. He convulsed with another fit of pain and this time he felt it clawing and ripping inside of his head, like something was trying to gouge a hole through his brain.

It was at times like this would he hate what he was.

His mind grew foggy after that thought; he felt his body give one last shudder before it all went dark.

* * *

A/N Please read and review! Tell me what you think, like is my grammar bad, does my formatting need working. Some constructive criticism would be nice. Have any questions feel free to ask :)


End file.
